


God Save Yuuri Katsuki

by belovedyuuri (belovedstill)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Baby Yuri Plisetsky, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Humor, M/M, Single Parent Victor Nikiforov, babysitter Yuuri, i guess, this is so awkward I was burning with secondhand embarrassment when I was writing this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-10 11:35:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11126223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belovedstill/pseuds/belovedyuuri
Summary: Let it be known that accepting the babysitting gig is definitelynotthe best decision in Yuuri's life. At first, at least.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> written as a fill for [yoificfridays](https://yoificfridays.tumblr.com)'s Week 1 prompt: _awkward first meeting_. This is terribly late c':
> 
> big thanks to [May](https://may-darling.tumblr.com) for some glorious inspiration <3

“If he starts getting fussy, buy anything he wants,” Mila advised him when she left the little Yuri in his care, pushing more money into his hands than he has ever held in his life. She couldn't mean _anything_ anything, though.

Certainly, she couldn't mean the magazine the five-year-old is currently clutching against his chest - a very _not child-friendly_ magazine, with a half naked woman who's doing nothing to hide herself on the cover and a tiny photo of a man in the bottom right corner, cleverly captioned “ _Viktor Naughtyforov_ ”.

Naturally, Yuuri does the first thing that comes to his mind - he screeches and tries to grab at the magazine. Yuri only hugs it tighter and jumps away, shouting at him to leave him alone.

Immediately, two people in the aisle pause their shopping and look in their direction.

Yuuri can only imagine what they’re thinking. To assure them everything’s alright, he sends them a nervous smile and a wave and hopes they don't think he's kidnapping the boy. Met with his eyes, both people look away.

How did Yuri even get a hold of the paper? Those things are supposed to be stored on the top shelves, out of children's reach. How the hell—

“I want it,” Yuri informs him peevishly, hugging the paper close. He looks at Yuuri with a victorious glare in his eyes, like he knows very well that Yuuri has to do as he says; like he's daring him to try not to.

“Yuri,” Yuuri drawls in warning, calling all the patience he has to keep his voice calm. “This is not for children.”

“It has papa! Buy it or I’ll scream!”

 _It has_ — _?_

_Oh, for god’s sake._

It’s only a five-year-old, Yuuri is the babysitter, he has the power here. All the power, in fact, and the money from Yuri’s father to pay for the groceries with. Like hell he’s buying the magazine.

“I will not buy—”

“AAAAAAAAA!”

 

*

 

Yuuri can feel the judgement coming from the lady when she’s ringing their groceries, the magazine and a tiger plushie (that Yuri has grabbed in one of the aisles and without a word put it in their shopping basket after Yuuri promised to purchase the magazine) included, as he busies himself with counting out the bills he has to give her. God, she must think he's buying the things for himself. He doubts she has even seen Yuri.

As if hearing his thoughts, the boy climbs to his toes and braces himself against the cash counter, peeking at the woman from under his too long fringe.

Yuuri doesn't have enough time to prepare himself for what comes next; in retrospect, if he had known Yuri’s next words, he would have abandoned the groceries and fled from the store. Forget lunch. He could miss one meal and Yuri could eat cereal.

The lady smiles and awws at the adorable child (Yuuri doesn't blame her; he fell for those blonde hair and big, bright green eyes earlier that day as well), and clearly doesn't expect it when he points at the shameful magazine.

“It's mine, give me!” Yuri exclaims for the entire queue of people standing behind him to hear. “My papa is in it!”

Yuuri wishes the floor would swallow him whole.

 

*

 

“Maybe you should give me the magazine?” Yuuri tries again when they’re out of the store, reaching for the paper, but Yuri pushes it behind his back.

“No! It's mine!”

“I won't take it away. I'll only put it in my backpack so it doesn't wrinkle.”

“It's mine!”

People are looking at them, again. Yuuri’s neck prickles under their stares. They must think he's a terrible parent, shaking their heads at him. And Yuri isn't even his kid! They'll have more to whisper about when they catch a glimpse of the cover of the magazine.

He briefly considers just grabbing the paper and forcefully taking it from Yuri, but decides against it when his imagination supplies him with everything that could follow.

A confrontation. A child runaway. Being sued by Yuri’s father (whom he still has to meet; that would be a terrible first impression) for neglect of providing the childcare the man is paying for. Prison time or financial repercussions _or both_. All because of a magazine.

“Think,” Yuuri mutters to himself, holding Yuri’s hoodie, just in case, as he frantically looks around. The store. A street. Cars. A park. Benches. A duck pond. A playground. An ice cream parlour. A fountain. Another street.

_Wait._

...no, he shouldn't. It's nearly lunchtime.

Yuri moves to open the magazine and that takes the choice away from Yuuri.

“You won't be able to carry ice cream with that magazine in your hands,” he rushes, going for a disappointed sigh right after.

Yuri’s head shots up. “Ice cream? I want ice cream!”

 _1:0 for me_ , Yuuri thinks, relief relaxing all his limbs for the first time today as he puts the magazine in his backpack. Dealing with a sugar high Yuri afterward will be totally worth it.

 

*

 

Yurio is napping on the living room couch, _The Lion King_ playing quietly on the TV. He crashed right after their late lunch, not even making it through Simba’s puberty. Not that Yuuri terribly minds; it's Yuri’s father that will have to deal with the kid’s late bedtime. And Yuuri… Well. Judging by the magazine currently held in his hands, he doubts that he'll be asked to come back. Yuri will surely mention that purchase to his father.

And Yuuri still doesn't even know what the guy looks like. The apartment is full of family warmth, the living room big enough to hold a tent or a fort, the walls and shelves covered with pictures of Yuri of all ages. The boy is mostly alone in the photos, though; sometimes there are animals with him, a cat or a dog. One picture is of him at the zoo, staring at a lioness with its cubs, his hand held by an arm that extends outside of the frame. It's not that surprising, Mr. Nikiforov is a single parent, after all; it must be difficult to tame a child like Yuri enough to take a group photo.

Still, it makes Yuuri wonder just what kind of a man Viktor Nikiforov is. He's definitely not going to go through the man’s possessions, he has _some_ decency.

With a heavy heart, he glances down at the magazine in his hands, his only source of information.

_Oh well…_

He makes sure that Yuri is truly asleep, the TV low enough to make ambient noise and not wake him up, and retreats to the safety of the bathroom. He's sure as hell not going to risk looking at impertinent images with a minor in the same room.

He locks the door for a good measure.

 

*

 

 _Thump_.

Yuuri’s head shoots up, he freezes on the toilet and listens.

Somebody is in the apartment.

Somebody, who is _not a five-year-old child_ , is walking around the apartment.

Somebody broke in and is rummaging around the living room and the kitchen and little Yuri is still asleep on the couch, alone.

Yuuri abandons the magazine on the counter as he tries to remember if he locked the front door. He doesn't know, can't remember; it's all his fault,  not giving Yuri proper safety. Some babysitter he is, he thinks bitterly, as he grabs the closest thing there is to serve as a weapon.

He needs to make sure Yuri is okay, that's the only thing that matters right now. With his heart in his throat and his breath not quite reaching his lungs, he silently unlocks the door. Seconds drag mercilessly. His senses grow sharper.

He grabs a can of—something—for an extra advantage.

The movie is still on but there are no distressed child noises. Yuri is either still asleep or tied and gagg—

— _This is not helping!_

He's out in the hallway, pressed to the wall, moving as quietly as he can.

The intruder walks around the kitchen. The pots clatter on the stove. The water is on in the next moment.

This is his chance, Yuuri thinks, heart thundering in his chest.

He jumps right behind the person, both hands raised, ready to attack if necessary.

“Don't move,” he warns with as threatening a voice as he can manage. It still wavers on the first word. “I'm armed and I won't hesitate to knock you out.”

The man stills, clearly shocked at being caught, probably wondering how the hell he should escape now—and turns his head, eyes finding Yuuri’s.

For a long moment, the only sound that can be heard is the water running over the dishes in the sink and the starting notes of _Can You Feel the Love Tonight_ coming from the living room.

Yuuri raises the spray can higher to show that he's not joking around and the man—

The man just... snickers.

_Excuse me?_

“You're going to fight me,” he asks, “with an air freshener and a toilet brush?”

Yuuri gapes at him for a second, stupefied, before something coils in him again.

_How dares he._

With a newfound anger, he glares at the man. “Try me,” he dares, pointing the spray can at the intruder’s eyes. “If you don't leave in 3 seconds, I'm calling the—”

“Papa!”

_Papa?_

“P—papa?” Yuuri stutters, watching as a very awake, very excited Yuri runs straight to the man, arms wide open.

 _Oh no_ , Yuuri thinks as _the_ Viktor Nikiforov lifts the child onto his arm and accepts the huge hug, greetings spilling in cheerful voices.

 _Oh no oh no oh no_ —

“You must be Yuuri,” Mr. Nikiforov says then, an amused laughter audible in his voice as he offers his free hand for Yuuri to shake.

Yuuri wants to die (and take both the air freshener and the toilet brush with him).

Or better yet, he wishes he was never born.

...

Nothing like that happens. Yuuri is still there 5 seconds later, Mr. Nikiforov is still extending his hand to him, and Yuri is staring at his (ex) babysitter with a grin.

Yuuri does the only thing he can think of.

“Uh—uhm...” he mumbles, lowers his weapons of choice—

And flees the apartment.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri's friends find out about the babysitting fiasco. It still isn't pretty. Yuuri's not going back, no way; the Nikiforovs probably don't want to see him again, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *boop* wow, subscribers are something definitely new to me. Hello! Be kind to yourself and stay hydrated! Hope you enjoy this chapter!

“Wait, wait, wait,” Phichit says with his face still in his hands. He's just stopped laughing at Yuuri’s misery, cheeks red with exhilaration. ‘A friend’, he calls himself. “Tell me _again_.”

Yuuri doesn't even try to look for any warm feelings he's ever had towards the other man; there are none left. Phichit Chulanont is officially not his friend anymore. How long does it take to evict a roommate, again?

“Maybe you'd like to record it?” Yuuri asks dryly, busying himself with their dishes. “This way you can listen to it forever.”

Phichit makes a move like he wants to reach for his phone (Yuuri wonders if all roommates are so rude; maybe he should note on his next ad about an available (Phichit’s ex-) room that rudeness toward him is strongly prohibited) but stops in the last moment.

“I'm sorry, Yuuri.” He doesn't look too sorry. “You have to admit, though. If a babysitter for your kid tried to fight you out of your apartment with a _toilet brush,_ you would be laughing too.”

“Toilet brush and an air freshener,” Yuuri mumbles, like it makes it any better.

Phichit bursts into a fit of giggles again and because Yuuri is such a good friend, he only swats him with the kitchen towel when the dishes are done.

“I hate you,” he mutters on his way to his room.

“No, you don't!”

 

*

 

For her part, Mila tries very hard to stifle her laughter when she sees him at the entrance to the LGBTQ+ meeting. Yuuri doesn't even need to ask; it takes one glance at her to guess that she already knows.

At least she doesn't mock him.

“How was your first day of work?” she asks innocently, biting her lower lip.

Ah. Teasing. What a lovely change.

Sara Crispino looks at him with curiosity in her eyes. “Oh?” She smiles. “You got a new job?”

Bless her pure heart, at least she knows nothing about his shame.

“He babysits the son of my cousin,” Mila answers for him.

“I baby _sat_ the son of her cousin.”

Both girls tilt their heads at him. It's scary how in tune with each other they are, they spend so much time together even outside of the club they started together in uni.

“Why the past tense?”

“You're not going back?”

“Was Yuri really that scary?”

Yuuri glares at Mila. Even though she hasn't told Sara anything about what happened, she is sure trying hard to make the girl ask all the right questions.

“I plead the fifth,” he mumbles and moves to go past them.

“We're not in the court,” Mila sing-songs and tries to block the way with her arm but Yuuri is faster and slides into the classroom anyway. “I won't let you go off so easy! I'll catch you later, Yuuri!”

He pretends not to hear.

 

*

 

“You thought somebody broke into the house?” Sara asks two hours later when all three of them are sitting in the café Phichit works at, eyes wide. Her right hand nearly covers her mouth. “You must have been so scared!”

Yuuri has never wanted to hug somebody more in his life. He gives Mila a pointed look. _This_ is how a friend should react.

“ _Thank you_ ,” he tells Sara who only nods in reply.

“I've been there, I understand.”

It's Mila’s turn to gape. “Somebody broke into your apartment?”

Sara tilts her head in confusion before her eyes clear with understanding. “Oh! No, no! But when I was a kid, Emil broke into my and Mickey’s room. You know we live so close to each other, he simply climbed from his window to ours on the tree between our houses.” She smiles in soft embarrassment. “Apparently, he was bored and wanted to play a game that Mickey borrowed from him. Well, I woke up, the light was off, so I didn't know it was him. I threw all my toys at him before my parents found us like that.”

Mila coos and pulls her sweetheart into a one-armed hug, then presses a kiss to the top of her head. “You were a kid, though,” she defends. He curls a lock of Sara’s hair around her finger. “Yuuri here is an adult.”

“Are you talking about the skin magazine Yuuri bought for the kid?” Phichit joins in out of the blue, still wearing his apron as he falls onto the only empty chair at the table.

Both girls stare at him in shock. “He did _what_?”

 _P h i c h i t_ _!_

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Yuuri asks through gritted teeth.

Phichit carefully looks around the table. “Lunch break?” he says slowly, surely realising what he’s just done.

Mila gawks at Yuuri, like she's seeing him for the first time. “You bought a five-year-old a _porno_?”

“N-no, it wasn't like that!”

“A _five-year-old_ , Yuuri!”

“The kid wreaked havoc at the store,” Phichit defends him. _Defends_ him, for a change. “What was he supposed to do?”

“Get him a toy. Or a candy bar,” Mila supplies, looking at them both ridiculously. “Literally anything else!”

Sara is openly laughing next to her, drawing attention from several other patrons to their table.

Yuuri tries his best to curl in on himself and disappear. The closest thing he manages to do is to hide his face in his crossed arms, resting on the table. “He found it and grabbed it and wouldn't let go of it, and wouldn't stop screaming unless I bought it,” he mumbles to the table. “He thought his father was in it and wanted me to buy it.”

Phichit pats his back in sympathy.

“Vitya? In such a magazine?” Mila asks, doubtfully.

Yuuri shakes his head. “It was just a lookalike with the same first name on the cover.”

For a moment all he can hear is just the usual chatter of the café, none of his friends talking. For some reason, his head feels heavy. When he looks up, all three pairs of eyes are glued to him, amused.

“You looked inside?” Mila asks, a teasing note back in her voice.

Yuuri only groans and lets his head fall back onto his arms.

It’s settled. From today on, he officially has no friends.

 

*

 

The phone rings just when he’s about to fall asleep that night. Yuuri sighs and looks at the screen, only to frown at the hidden number. Private. For a moment, he considers not answering – it is late, after all, and he doesn’t know anybody whose number isn’t already saved in his phone.

Unless...

His eyes widen in surprise at the idea of who exactly could be calling him and, not even fully aware of what he’s doing, he accepts the call.

Shit. Now what? He can’t cancel it now without looking like a jerk. Not saying anything isn’t very nice of him, either.

“Hello?” comes from the phone after the longest three seconds of his life. Yuuri immediately puts the phone against his ear.

“Hello.”

“Is this Yuuri Katsuki’s number?”

Yuuri recognises that voice, no matter how few words it uttered to him the last time he heard it.

He could safely say that the call is a mistake and forget about the babysitting fiasco once and for all. He can’t help but wonder, though...

“Uhm—I guess,” he stutters and promptly winces at how silly that sounds. ‘I guess?’ He quickly adds, “I mean, yes, it’s me.”

“Oh, good! This is Viktor Nikiforov speaking, we met yesterday.”

_How could I forget?_

“Oh... Right.”

“You never showed up today,” Mr Nikiforov says. “I had to find somebody else to take care of Yuri while I was at work. It was very unexpected and very last minute. Has anything happened?”

‘Has anything happened?’

Yuuri frowns at the words and looks at his phone to check if he’s not imagining the call after all, but no, it’s real. The seconds are ticking away. The private number hidden from his eyes truly belongs to Viktor Nikiforov who is asking if something has caused him to miss a day at work.

“Yuuri?”

The sound of his name pulls Yuuri back to the present and he quickly presses the phone back to his ear.

“Um, yeah, about that,” he croaks, “I thought—I thought I wasn’t supposed to come back?”

There’s silence on the other end of the call. One second, two...

“Was that a question?” Mr Nikiforov asks, sounding confused. “Why did you think you weren’t supposed to come back?”

Yuuri frowns. Isn’t it obvious? “Are you serious?” He shakes his head, incredulously. “I took you for a burglar! I—I nearly sprayed air freshener into your eyes!”

The voice chuckles quietly.

_Here we go again._

“You were protecting Yuri and the apartment. That was quite a brave thing to do. Besides, I hadn’t got to introduce myself yet; as far as you knew, I _could_ have been a burglar.”

But he didn’t lock the damn door...

“Yes, but—”

“I haven’t even paid you for babysitting Yuri yet,” Mr Nikiforov adds then. “You left so suddenly.”

Yuuri winces again. “I’m really sorry for that. I was just—very...”

Embarrassed? Ashamed?

“I see,” Mr Nikiforov’s voice is soft again, like he’s smiling, like he knows exactly what Yuuri wants to say. For a second, Yuuri feels a little bit better. “I suppose I shouldn’t mention the magazine I found in the bathroom, then?”

Any relief and warmth that have found their way into Yuuri’s heart are gone in a blink. He’s never thought his blood could turn so cold in a matter of mere seconds.

The magazine. _Oh God._

He left the magazine in the—and he never even—he never even _closed it_.

Yuuri sits up straight on the bed, fingers clutching to his phone. “Mr Nikiforov!” he calls, petrified. “I promise I—I—It’s not what you think—!”

The man laughs, and even though he does it quietly, the sound of it drums in Yuuri’s red ears. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, catching some breath. “Yuri told me the magazine was his when he saw it—“

Yuuri chokes out an embarrassed sound and hides his face in his free hand. Where’s the death he requested yesterday?

“—and he said he still wanted to ‘see me in it’. I put two and two together.”

What two and two? There’s no math in this situation that could even begin to explain Yuuri’s actions.

Mr Nikiforov continues, though. “You know, you aren’t the first babysitter he tried to scare off.”

That sentence grabs Yuuri’s attention. What Yuri did throughout his first day taking care of him was all... on purpose?

“He wanted me out,” Yuuri speaks slowly with a frown, “so he made me buy him the magazine?”

“Well, I believe he really thought it was me on the cover. But yes, it sounds like him, to tease and try to manipulate his babysitters.”

“But—The magazine was—And you’re alright with that?”

“Of course I’m not alright with that,” Mr Nikiforov sounds more strict now. “I talked to him about it and I fully expect you won’t buy such things again when you’re babysitting my son.”

Yuuri wants to say that he won’t buy such things _at all_ , _ever_ , _he promises,_ but he only nods his head. And then he remembers Yuri’s father can’t actually see him, so he hums in agreement. And _then_...

“Wait...” He rubs at his eyes. “Mr Nikiforov, does that mean I’m not fired?”

There’s a sigh in his ear. “My name’s Viktor, you can call me that. And yes. Both me and Yuri are expecting you tomorrow. Is that alright?”

Is it? Yuuri clenches his eyes. He made a complete fool out of himself yesterday, he ran out of the apartment like it was on fire. And all the suspicious looks he got when he was grocery shopping with Yuri, and when they got out of the store, too...

But then he remembers how... _easy_ it was when the dirty magazine was hidden in his backpack, forgotten, when he and Yuri were sitting at one of the tables in the ice cream parlour and the five-year-old was stuffing his face full of chocolate mush and whipped cream. Yuri behaved like a little angel when eating ice cream or watching the opening of _The Lion King,_ ready for his nap.

Maybe he will act more like that when he sees Yuuri is back for day two—never mind there was a hiccup—and understands that he isn’t that easy to scare off?

(Never mind that he _is_. The kid definitely doesn’t need to know that, though.)

“Same time and place?” Yuuri asks finally, letting out an inaudible sigh as he rubs at his eyes again.

“Yes, if that’s alright? Yuri has a private dancing class right before you come to our apartment. His instructor will be waiting for you to take over.”

Yuuri nods to himself. Private dance classes. Of course.

“I’ll be there,” he promises.

As soon as the call is off, Yuuri plugs the phone to charge and falls back on his bed, hands covering his face.

He’ll show the little Yuri that he’s not a pushover and he’ll prove the boy’s father that he isn’t a pervert. It’s not important that the man doesn’t seem to think that. Yuuri thinks Mr Nikiforov might be secretly thinking that, and that’s all that matters.

He nods to himself and rolls onto his side, arm hugging the pillow, ready to sleep.

...why the hell did he agree to go back?

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a tiny thing, I only selected the multichapter option because I still have several ideas for this 'verse.
> 
> visit me on tumblr @[belovedyuuri](https://belovedyuuri.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Have a lovely day <3


End file.
